


Thick as Thieves

by GuileandGall



Series: Technicolor Geek Chic [3]
Category: Saints Row
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 10:57:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7755040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuileandGall/pseuds/GuileandGall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An overheard chat pulls Tala out of her jean shredding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thick as Thieves

**Author's Note:**

> Another character development fiction for my SR RPG OC.

**Thick as Thieves**

She had noticed the connection between Lorcán and Jonah right off the bat. The way they laughed and carried on, always elbowing and shoving each other—it reminded her of … well, she didn’t know who exactly, but it seemed familiar in a way that was somehow both comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time.

For some reason, every time she left the common room when she came back her favorite chair was farther from the wall. Why? She couldn’t decide, but she never moved it back, though she continued shredding the pairs of jeans she got. This time slipping a fork into her pocket to make it a little easier to start another tear.

A fierce debate in whispers broke out on the sofa, which she was now close enough to over here bits and pieces of the plan for some mischief.

“C’mon it will be hilarious,” Jonah explained, keeping his gestures small.

Lorcán looked skeptical. While the corners of her mouth ticked upward at the mention of a prank.

“We just grab something useful but not vital and leave ransom notes. It’s flawless.”

His friend still seemed on the fence.

“A quick in and out. No one’s gonna know.” Jonah stared at Lorcán for a long time, his face kind of twitching like he thought facial gestures might complete the job of convincing him.

“Fine,” Lorcán relented. “What’s the plan?”

Her jeans were far less interesting than they had been moments ago, and for what seemed like the first time since put it on, she pushed her hood back.

“I figure we start with Claire.”

“Right. There’s never anyone in medical right after dinner,” Lorcán said.

“Yeah. They’re all kicking back, digesting,” Jonah agreed.

Lorcán nodded. “Should be able to slip in and grab … something.”

“Okay. Then we do it tonight?”

 _The plan is flawed_ , she thought. “You’re going to get caught,” she said with a faint huff of laughter.

Two heads turned toward her, eyes narrowing. “Keep your voice down,” Lorcán hissed.

“Fine,” she whispered back, “but it doesn’t change the fact that plan is guaranteed to get you in trouble … again.” She’d seen enough over the past few days to notice a trend.

Jonah looked skeptical. “How ya figure?”

“If you—”

“Shh.” Lorcán and Jonah both turned and tried to look innocent.

As she passed through the room, Blu stared at the three of them in a way that made Tala’s heart pound off her rib cage. _What the hell are you thinking?_ she asked herself, as her jade eyes tracked the woman’s path through a door, which closed behind her.

In an instant, the boys turned expectant looks on her again, but she felt like she’d lost the ability to talk.

“Come on,” Jonah prodded.

“It’s just that, if you go in—”

Another shushing, as Val and Byron strolled through in deep debate about the iconography of Versace.

“What message are they trying to send?” the Italian asked with complete seriousness as the pair took a seat at a table on the opposite side of the room.

“The craftsmanship is flawless,” Byron argued.

“Of course,” Val stated with clear confidence in that aspect of the brand. “It was made in Italy. But why a gorgon’s head?”

Tala stared after the two well-kempt men as they crossed the room to a table far from the would-be pranksters. _Really?_ she asked herself, wondering for a moment how that conversation even started. With a shake of her head, her eyes returned to the couch in time to see Jonah prod Lorcán to move over before gesticulating at her. Teeth tugging at her lip ring she took a moment to consider it first.

“What? Forgot what we were talking about already?” Jonah teased with a boyish grin.

She glared at him, then moved, hopping over the back of the sofa and plopping into the spot between them. The proximity allowed her to keep her voice even quieter than before. “How many cameras are in medical? Or between here and there?” she asked looking from one to the other of them.

Lorcán merely raised his brow, while Jonah started to say something then stopped.

“Right. And if everyone else is in here digesting and you two are the only ones elsewhere, who do you think they’ll peg as the kidnappers?”

“Well, you can’t really kidnap a tablet,” Lorcán offered in a reasonable tone.

“Depends on who you ask,” she replied. “I’d certainly call it that if you nicked mine.”

“Good to know,” he said quietly.

“You got a better idea?” Jonah inquired, his tone oozing with a hint of grump.

Tala considered it a moment, then she presented them with an alternate and incredibly brilliant suggestion.

“Go old school,” she said finally. “There’s a communal bathroom, right?” A smirk curled over her lips as she looked between them. “There’s a reason the classics are classic. _And_ no cameras.”

“Yeah. But if we’re in there for an hour, they’ll be able to see it on the cameras,” Lorcán replied.

With a shake of her head, Tala explained, “You don’t do it all at once. There’s two of you. One goes in and pops some bouillon in a shower head, then pop into a stall, flush, and wash your hands. Come back out. The next goes in later. Maybe you cover a toilet seat in plastic wrap,” she said, looking at Jonah. Rinse and repeat.” She smiled smugly as she sat back and crossed her arms over her chest.

“That couldn’t possibly work,” Lorcán said.

“Can and will. I mean you’re welcome to use that tired old plan. And end up bathing Billy again, or flossing his teeth, or giving him a manicure, once you get caught.”

“That’s a valid point,” Jonah noted.

Lorcán still looked skeptical.

She turned her head and looked him in the eye. “Just make sure you keep a little map so you know which ones you’ve rigged. Pranking yourself would be completely fail.”

“Says the Little Mermaid picking at her jeans with a fork.”

“She used it as a comb, genius.” Tala gave him an exasperated look. “Fine. Go get caught,” she said in a normal volume for the first time since climbing onto the couch.

“Scusami?” Val piped up from across the room.

The question from across the room startled Tala. She stood quickly, turning just slightly.

“Nothing,” Lorcán chimed. He turned and gave her a sharp look, which she returned with confidence and just a hint of smugness.

Val did not look convinced in the slightest. Jonah leaned on the back of the sofa almost too casually and said, “Oh, she’s probably just confused again. Or maybe remembering something.” He swatted Lorcán’s leg out of the others’ view.

Tala’s shoulders hunched forward when Byron glanced at her. Despite the fact that he only looked mildly concerned, her cheeks still warmed. Val and Byron were both lovely, and smooth talkers, and in this case, lookers. Her eyes dropped to her hands, which she pulled back inside her sleeves.

Lorcán fell right into step, easing off the sofa. “Yeah. We should probably escort her to medical.”

“Nero’s there, right?” Jonah asked, getting to his feet as well.

“Likely,” Byron said.

To Tala’s ears, he sounded suspicious. But Lorcán’s hand on one shoulder turned her toward the doorway. Jonah’s hand pressed at her other shoulder to encourage her through it.

“Cool. Don’t let us interrupt,” Lorcán added over his shoulder. Once around the corner, he stopped and looked her in the eyes again. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

“No, you’re more than capable of managing that on your own from what I’ve seen,” she retorted in an equally sharp tone.

“Dude. Chill.” Jonah completed their little triangle in the hall. “Let’s give it a shot. Besides even if we do get caught we can blame it on her. There’s no way they’re gonna punish the girl who can’t remember her own name.”

Tala pinched his arm.

Lorcán chuckled. “You might be right.”


End file.
